


The Death of Me

by TooTiredToTry



Category: Marvel
Genre: Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Marvel - Freeform, POV Tony Stark, Protective Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark Has Issues, thorbruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 21:49:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20089303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooTiredToTry/pseuds/TooTiredToTry
Summary: Steve looked away from the heights to him and the distance was so minute; Tony could feel crackling electricity everywhere. Every atom sizzled and begged to be closer.





	The Death of Me

“Please define ‘vacation’,” Tony commanded with his hip cocked on the communal table.

_ “ _ _ Vacation : a period spent away from home or business in travel or recreation _ _ . _ _ It’s also commonly known as ‘holiday’ in non-North American countries,” _JARVIS answered. 

Steve wore a shit eating grin and shrugged. Tony just turned up his nose and shook his head.

“Superheroes don’t get vacation, smartass.”

“Good thing we aren’t superheroes.”

“Did Fury finally fire us?”

“Hmmm.... nope.”

“Is this an alternate universe?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Are you high?”

“No, but that’d be fun.”  
“Okay, I give up,” Tony sighed. Steve grinned and opened his mouth, but was interrupted by Clint.

“Dad got us pardoned by United Nation for two weeks. If the world ends, it’s not our fault.”

“Steve-”

“Tony, just think about it-”

“-you can’t do that-”

“-we haven’t had a break ever-”

“-people depend on us for their safety-”

“-unless that one time where Loki held all the other bad guys hostage on Jotunheim counts-”

“-we have responsibilities, and we can’t simply run away from them, that’s what kids do-”

“-I’m the captain of this team, and you all look like shit, so we’re going on break and that’s that.”

Tony stopped arguing as he pinched his nose bridge. When he finished counting from ten, and _ still _ saw Steve, he sighed as the other man turned to his team.

“So pack up, and let’s get it.”

\---

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT,” Tony screeched.

“It’s a raccoon, Princess,” Natasha replied as she walked behind him. Tony yelped and leaped backwards into a giggling Steve.

“Fuck off, Rogers! That shit is terrifying, look at it! Whatthefuckisthat?”

The entire team was unloading the SHIELD van they rented into a cabin fortress. Clint was carrying hot dogs, Bruce was walking next to Thor, who was grinning and balancing three suitcases in one hand. Nat had a sixth of her weaponry from home in her hands as she calmly walked inside. Steve had his own suitcase on the ground while he was cackling and Tony was holding his laptop up and away from the animal. 

The grass was cut short, save for around the oak tree, and had dry patches scattered about the open land. They had one hundred acres in the middle of Indiana to fuck around on without any press. Birds chatted in the trees as the sun set over the horizon. Reds, oranges, and yellows gave into dark blues and purples as the center of the universe disappeared into the grass blades. Frogs croaked in the pond by the house, and the leaves rustled in the air.

“Tony, there are raccoons in New York,” Steve bit out behind a smile.

“Not near Stark Tower,” Tony scoffed, “it’s an abomination. The fuck is it- IT CAN STAND?”

Tony screamed as he clutched his computer close and hid behind Steve, who wagged a finger at the beast.

“Now, Mr Coon, you scared my friend. That wasn’t very nice,” he paused as the animal squeaked, “yes, I understand that he’s a quivering pussy, but that doesn’t excuse your bad manners.”

Tony elbowed Steve in between his shoulder blades with his free arm with a “fuck off, Steve” and bounced on his toes to the cabin. 

Once inside, coolness hit the brunette like a truck as he stood in the doorway. A glass chandelier that hung from the tall ceiling in the foyer gave everything a golden glow. Pictures of farm animals and scenic rural areas were expertly placed to look homely, but not cluttered. A plush grey rug lead down a hallway to another room and a set of decorative hangers with labels like “keys” and “dog leash” hung on the walls.

“Close the door, you’re letting heat in,” Natasha barked from elsewhere.

“Uh, heat doesn’t move,” Tony retorted.

“You won’t move ever again if you do not close that damn door,” was all he needed to obey the order. When Tony stepped back to swing shut the door, he saw Steve hiking towards him.

“Save the door, Tones.”

“Oh, but Mr Rogers,” Tony said in a faux voice with a finger to his chin, “you made fun of me. That wasn’t very nice.”

“Okay, Tony, I’m sorry I made fun of y-”

“Yes, I understand that you’re a li’l bitch boy, but that doesn’t excuse your bad behavior.”

“Oh, fuck off, Tony.”

With Steve then two paces from being inside and his hands full, Tony beamed and slammed the door shut. A muffled “fuckin’ hate you” traveled through the door and Tony chuckled.

With Steve taken care of, Tony dusted his hands off on one another and strut down the hall into a gorgeous kitchen. Every flat service was marble and everything had black legs with them. The chairs had white pillows stitched on, and bananas were hung on a metal contraption in the center of the island counter. The ceiling was lower than the foyer to where if Tony jumped, he could touch it. The kitchen was connected to a carpeted room that had blackout curtains and a grey throw blanket on the L-couch. A black smooth recliner was in the corner facing the flatscreen on the wall. In the middle of it all was a low coffee table that had coasters with small farm animals on them.

Bruce and Thor had their legs tangled on the couch as Bruce squinted through his glasses down at his StarkPhone and Thor was french braiding his hair into a fanning bun. Clint and Tasha were in the kitchen, with Nat sat cross legged on the table and Clint scrounging for food.

“We have to buy our own,” Natasha says without looking up from her nails.

Clint threw his head back in front of the pantry and groaned. Tony snickered to himself and untucked his laptop from underneath his arm to sit at the table. As soon as they’d been close enough, he had JARVIS working on connecting everyone to everything, so his WiFi was already signed in and at full speed. He had been contentedly tapping about, checking the internet capacity and television channels when a shout echoed in the entry hall.

“Tony Motherfucking Stark!”

“I didn’t know that was your middle name,” Clint mused from his place in front of the refrigerator. Tony flipped him off as he slammed his laptop shut and looked around for a hiding spot. He only saw cabinets, so he had two options: get murdered or fold himself like origami into a cupboard.

So he opened the door and went legs first. He was halfway in and settled when Steve burst into the room.

“Where is he?”

“Hiding like a li’l bitch,” Clint answered from his new position in front of the TV. That was the moment Steve saw Tony with his torso hanging out of a floor cabinet. Tony beamed in an effort to not be mercilessly killed, causing the blonde’s lips to quirk up.

“I vote that his punishment is to go grocery shopping,” Natasha offered. Rogers smiled full on as he leaned diagonally on the fridge.

“I agree, Romanov,” he stated.

“You gotta go babysit him though, or else he’ll just buy multicolored dildos and say that they’re bananas and carrots,” she concluded. 

“Sounds like a very nutritional meal,” Tony voiced from the floor.

“Gross,” Bruce muttered from the living room. Steve rolled his eyes and held out his hand for Tony to take. When they both stood, Tony chewed on his bottom lip awkwardly.

“Guess we’re gonna go to the mall,” he shrugged and Steve shook his with a tiny smirk.

“No, we’re going to Winn Dixie like normal civilians,” Rogers corrected.

“Isn’t that a book?”

“It’s also a movie and a chain of convenience stores,” Steve disclosed.

“Was it that good?”

“Not really.”

Tony threw his hands up in the air, “what can ya do?”

“Get in the car,” Steve asserted.

When they asked who wants what, four other voices answered in tandem with a variety of foods. Words clashed and nothing made sense, so Tony clapped his hands together and walked out the door with Steve on his tail.

“You understood that?”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely not,” Tony chuckled, “they’re gonna eat what we wanna eat. If they have any problems, they can take it up their asses.”

“That’s not very sanitary.”

Tony rolled his eyes and marched to the van. The stars had come out to play and they twinkled over the farm. Fireflies flickered randomly in the tall grasses as more toads burped from the oasis. Tony stood in awe just outside the passenger side’s door, until he heard Steve shuffle next to him.

“They’re still the same,” Steve murmured happily.

“It takes a lot to move intergalactic plasma in zero gravity,” Tony chuckled.

“Buck and I used to lie on the roof of our apartment complex and try to spot constellations through the smog,” he huffed with a smile, “it was damn near impossible.”

Tony smiled softly, watching Steve lean against the vehicle with his head pointed at the sky. His neck curved a lovely arc and he chin jutted out perfectly. His eyes reflected the stars and it was easily the most beautiful thing Tony had ever seen. 

“Have you ever seen anything like this,” Steve asked in a low voice. Tony steadfastly ignored looking at the other’s mouth move.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

Steve looked away from the heights to him and the distance was so minute; Tony could feel crackling electricity everywhere. Every atom sizzled and begged to be closer, but he blinked the haze out of his eyes. Steve looked so open and honest; it couldn’t happen, though. Tony inched away, only a little. However, Steve noticed and whatever had started was now over. The tension in his shoulders loosened, and every other part of him tightened in misery.

The blonde exhaled lightly, kicked off the van, and tread to his side. Tony swallowed and curled into the vacant seat. Steve started the ignition and they were off. Tony watched white fence zoom up and down with the hills as they sat in quiet. Against the door, air conditioning faced him and froze him to the bone. It was refreshing and Tony could think straight again.

“Do you even know where we’re going,” he turned to the other, who smiled and looked into his rear view.

“We’ve been driving for five minutes and you’re just now asking that?”

“The pickett fences are very hypnotizing,” Tony explains and Steve glanced over.

“Yes, I know where we are, and where we’re going.”

“Bet. How?”

“‘_ It’s seeing where you’re going in your mind. Knowing where you are by knowing where you’ve been’.” _

“Was… was that fucking Disney, Rogers?”

Steve just beamed from ear to ear and stayed quiet with one arm on the wheel and the other on the divider. Tony huffed in exasperation, despite his own smile widening.

“You’re such a dumbass,” he muttered.

Steve hung his head to the side as he looked at Tony through his eyelashes. His face had neutralized, but his mouth still threatened to grin. _ Fuck, _ Tony thought, _ I’m fucked. _

They eventually pulled into a parking lot that was dimly lit. Cicadas buzzed in the background and Tony slammed his door shut, just to piss off Steve

“Stop being so disrespectful to the damn van.”

“Can we call it that, the Damn Van?”

Steve paused in his administrations to slowly shake his head side to side. Tony shrugged and together they trekked into the store. 

Lights on the low ceiling were in neat rows and columns, keeping darkness at bay by the door. A cashier greeted them and they waved back. No one was expecting Captain America or Iron Man here, so any suspicion would be thrown off. It was nice going out without dumb baseball hats. However, Tony always got a kick from Steve going incognito. The pair each pulled a buggy out of line and began the expedition at the farthest right aisle. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually gone grocery shopping,” Tony mused. Steve kneaded his eyebrows together in concern.

“Like, never ever?”

“Never ever never,” Tony confirmed. Steve gawked before whistling.

“Stark, you missed out. Ma would hafta swat my hands away any time I reached to grab stuff off the shelves, and whenever I actually managed to sneak something home, it felt like winning the Olympics. I swear on my life, late night shopping was my favorite pastime as a kid. Sometimes, Ma would give me a dime, and I could buy a set of shitty pencils to draw with. It was Christmas.”

Tony looked down, imagining a lady with Steve’s face fighting with an asthmatic Steve about chewing gum in the twentieth century. He snorted at the sight that must’ve been. Steve paused his reminiscing to poke at Tony’s side, who wriggled into a shelf. They both muffled laughter with their hands, as to not draw attention to themselves. Steve nodded smoothly before saying, “Whatever you’re thinking it looked like is probably damn near the truth. I was as crazy as a runt could physically be, and my poor Ma usually paid the price. Metaphorically and literally.”

Steve bent at the waist to pick up a box of spaghetti noodles and silently asked if it was okay.

“As long as they aren’t angel hair.”

“Why not?”

“It seems sacreligious,” Tony stated with a flimsy lift of his shoulders. Steve bit back a smile, and retrieved a different colored box, then tossed it into his cart. 

“We always had people to do people stuff for us,” Tony revealed.

“The life of luxury was tailored suits and proper etiquette. Not,” he selected a box of Teddy Grahams from his side of the lane, “these.”

Steve snatched the box, snickering as he held it up high out of Tony’s reach. After struggling for a moment, he gave up with a smack to Steve’s shoulder. The blonde dropped the box and yelled in fake agony as he gripped his arm with white knuckles. Tony struggled to shush him through giggles and Steve smiled down at him. 

Time passed with neither of them daring to move, and their grins softened the longer they stayed inches apart. Tony had his hands on the arm that was across Steve’s chest holding his other appendage, and he could feel his chest rising with each puff of breath on his forehead. Tony felt his neck burning and he sighed with serenity as his eyes fluttered down to the other’s lips. They parted slightly and the bottom was tugged between teeth, which made Tony look back up to Steve’s eyes. The raw vulnerability that was too rare shone brightly, forcing him to step back to his own buggy.

“Tony-”

“Do we need anything else from this aisle?”

Disappointment flashed across gorgeous features before it was reigned in.

“No.”

“‘Kay,” Tony concluded. 

They pushed their items aisle after aisle in stiff silence as their piles got taller. Tony wanted to eat his own appendix. He kept breaking Steve’s heart without even trying and he needed it to stop. He couldn’t do a relationship; it was his destiny to be alone. He couldn’t - _ wouldn’t - _ trust anyone ever, not like that. Steve could, could _ use _ him and Tony would be defenseless because he’d be the stupid idiot who fell in love with someone who didn’t love him. Steve could use his body again and again, and Tony would just take it and most probably love it, because he adored anything Steve did ever. His body wouldn’t be his anymore, and he’d belong to Steve, and, and, and-

“Tony, you’ve gotta let go of the bread, you’re gonna smoosh it,” Steve gently reprimanded as he took the loaf out of his grip.

Tony inhaled a sharp breath and his shoulders rose to his ears. Steve cocked his head to one side, and Tony couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’ll be in the car.”

“Tony! What?” could be heard as Tony ran out of the store with his tail between his legs.

Inside the Damn Van, he shut his eyes and counted his breaths and waited for them to even out. When they did, he brought his knees to his chest and rested his head on them. The darkness he formed with his body allowed him to wash away the rest of the anxiety promising to tear him apart. 

Too soon or too late, the back of the van opened and things were haphazardly tossed inside. After it was completed, Steve thrust his door opened and he haughtily strapped his seatbelt, slamming the door shut. Every rash movement made Tony flinch and startle, but it was ignored in favor of angrily driving down country roads.

The desire of gouging his lungs out was exceedingly appealing the entire trip home. When Tony meekly reached out to turn on the radio, Steve glared daggers at him, so he decided against it. Drake wasn’t worth losing a limb over.

As soon as they were parked, Tony grabbed two bags and tripped over himself to get inside. Natasha’s green eyes snapped to his, and he panted, “I need my own room. Now.” 

She nodded hesitantly. He dropped his bags on the ground before she walked to a new hallway that had a staircase. On the second level, three doors were framed and closed. 

“Pick one,” she ordered with folded arms. His breath wavered as he marched in front of the room at one end of the space. When he looked back, she confirmed he could have it.

“Bathroom and other rooms are over there,” she pointed to the right, “any questions or concerns?”

“Can you bring my computer up,” he begged softly.

She licked her lips and leaned back on one leg. She exhaled lightly then swaggered down the stairs. Tony resigned himself to no laptops that night and trudged into his own area. A white bedspread had running horses printed in brown on it, and matching brown throw pillows were on top of regular pillows. A coffee maker and microwave were hidden in a cupboard. A loveseat was in the corner, and that was it for decorations. Tony heaved a single sob before he burrowed into the bed. _ It’s so soft. _

Tony drifted for a while, before a gentle knock came from his door.

“Go away,” he yelled.

“I’ve got your laptop, prick,” Natasha answered.

“Come in.”

“You want me to chew for you, too,” she asked dryly as she swung open the white door. Tony responded by opening his mouth wide and she huffed a laugh. When she reached the bed, he gestured for her to sit, and she obeyed while producing his device.

“Oh, Edward! It’s been so long,” he quipped.

Natasha rolled her eyes and passed Edward over to his owner. They each sat in tranquility with keyboard sounds before she cleared her throat.

“Goodnight, Tony,” she expressed.

“Thank you, Natasha,” he confided.

She saunters out of the room, latching his door again and shutting his light off. The only light source was the electronic, and Tony took the invitation.

\---

Two days had passed before Tony left his room. He was tired. He hadn’t wanted to work, so he had surfed along the internet and somehow landed on coding his way back into Club Penguin. It was a lot less fun when there was no one to report him for doing morally ambiguous things like threatening to steal puffles. 

He trudged into the cabin’s dining room and yawned.

“Hey Steve.”

Blonde hair was rustled- wait.

_ Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. _

“Bye Steve,” Tony waved while cursing himself. _ Stop talking, stop talking- _

“Tony, where’ve you been?”

Steve sighed from the long wooden table. His hands folded over each other and his shoulders were a straight, tense line. His jaw ticked once before he fluttered his eyes to Tony. Steve raised his brows in expectation.

Tony swallowed, instead of his gut reaction to _ get the fuck out of there. _

“M-my room,” he answered quietly.

Steve huffed a humorless laugh and Tony felt his chest tighten. The arc reactor dug sharply into his heart and lungs momentarily as he steeled himself.

Steve stood from his chair and walked to Tony. 

“Why won’t you let me in?”

The soft words hung heavy between them. Tony looked up to see all seven oceans staring back at him. Light brown brows furrowed together in concern as Steve tilted his head to the right.

“I could hurt you,” Tony finally admitted. Steve chuckled lightly and held his hand out. Tony accepted it and big, firm warmth flooded from his fingers to his soul.

“I don’t care,” Steve replied easily. Tony’s eyes burned and he turned his face away. Every bit of pain anyone had ever given him gathered into a lump in his throat. 

“You could hurt me,” was all Tony could muster before sucking in a wavering breath.

“I would never.”

Tony smiled sadly as he saw his mother leave his childhood home without as much as a goodbye. She didn’t even bother to take him with her.

“You can’t make that promise.”

Steve delicately touched his forehead to Tony’s. Steve’s breath smelled like Clint’s _ Frosted Flakes _ that everyone else despised. The two blondes inhaled that shit like chloroform.

“Twenty-bucks to who’s ever wrong,” Steve disclosed. Tony grinned and faced Steve once again.

“Twenty-five.”

Steve smacked his tongue and sighed.

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“Winner gets a kiss,” Tony suggested and Steve mirrored his smile.

“In that case… twenty-five it is.”

As their lips touched tentatively, Tony’s walls crumbled gracelessly, causing quakes in his head. Steve would kill him one day, and this was Tony handing him the knife.

**Author's Note:**

> yo, yo... it's another stevetony. i'm not sorry...  
\---  
fwm on Tumblr: shetalkstooloud


End file.
